dering
consciousness--she dared not be satirical: she had begun to feel a wand
over her that made her afraid of offending Grandcourt.

"Yes," she said, quietly, without considering what "kind of thing" was
meant--whether the flowers, the scents, the ball in general, or this
episode of walking with Mr. Grandcourt in particular. And they returned
along the conservatory without farther interpretation. She then
proposed to go and sit down in her old place, and they walked among
scattered couples preparing for the waltz to the spot where Mrs.
Davilow had been seated all the evening. As they approached it her seat
was vacant, but she was coming toward it again, and, to Gwendolen's
shuddering annoyance, with Mr. Lush at her elbow. There was no avoiding
the confrontation: her mamma came close to her before they had reached
the seats, and, after a quiet greeting smile, said innocently,
"Gwendolen, dear, let me present Mr. Lush to you." Having just made the
acquaintance of this personage, as an intimate and constant companion
of Mr. Grandcourt's, Mrs. Davilow imagined it altogether desirable that
her daughter also should make the acquaintance.

It was hardly a bow that Gwendolen gave--rather, it was the slightest
forward sweep of the head away from the physiognomy that inclined
itself toward her, and she immediately moved toward her seat, saying,
"I want to put on my burnous." No sooner had she reached it, than Mr.
Lush was there, and had the burnous in his hand: to annoy this
supercilious young lady, he would incur the offense of forestalling
Grandcourt; and, holding up the garment close to Gwendolen, he said,
"Pray, permit me?" But she, wheeling away from him as if he had been a
muddy hound, glided on to the ottoman, saying, "No, thank you."

A man who forgave this would have much Christian feeling, supposing he
had intended to be agreeable to the young lady; but before he seized
the burnous Mr. Lush had ceased to have that intention. Grandcourt
quietly took the drapery from him, and Mr. Lush, with a slight bow,
moved away. "You had perhaps better put it on," said Mr. Grandcourt,
looking down on her without change of expression.

"Thanks; perhaps it would be wise," said Gwendolen, rising, and
submitting very gracefully to take the burnous on her shoulders.

After that, Mr. Grandcourt exchanged a few polite speeches with Mrs.
Davilow, and, in taking leave, asked permission to call at Offendene
the next day. He was evidently